Select language to translate this lyric
O mirk, mirk is this midnight hour,
And loud the tempest's roar;
A waefu' wanderer seeks thy tower,
Lord Gregory, ope thy door.
An exile frae her father's ha',
And a' for loving thee;
At least some pity on me shaw,
If love it may na be.
Lord Gregory, mind'st thou not the grove
By bonie Irwine side,
Where first I own'd that virgin love
I lang, lang had denied.
How aften didst thou pledge and vow
Thou wad for aye be mine!
And my fond heart, itsel' sae true,
It ne'er mistrusted thine.
Hard is thy heart, Lord Gregory,
And flinty is thy breast:
Thou bolt of Heaven that flashest by,
O, wilt thou bring me rest!
Ye mustering thunders from above,
Thy willing victim see;
But spare and pardon my fause Love,
His wrangs to Heaven and me.
- Album:
- This Earthly Spell
- Scribbled In Chalk
- Faultlines
- This Earthly Spell (Expanded Edition)
- Traces
- Traces (Bonus Track Version)
- Celtic Connections 2008 Souvenir CD Sunday Herald
- Songlines: Top of the World 37
- Songlines: Top of the World 58
- Songlines: Top of the World 50
- The Build-Your-Own-Cathedral EP
- The Rough Guide to Scottish Folk
- Now Hear This! May 2006
- Folk Awards 2007
- Word of Mouth: August 2005
- Folk Awards 2009
- The Rough Guide to Celtic Women
- Folk Awards 2006
- Rough Guide To Scottish Folk
- Live In Hope: The Wildlife Album 2